KicktheFire?: Unwell (One-Shot)
by PsyDuck Squirtle Squad
Summary: I don't want to give anything away, but Phil is a patient in a mental institution and he doesn't know why. Read to find out why and stuff :/ I am actually really proud of this so please read! (there isn't that much kickthefire it just talks about well...you'll see) Wow I suck at summaries.


**Unwell**

**Author's Note: **I do not own Dan (danisnotonfire), Chris (crabstickz), Phil (amazingphil), or PJ (kickthepj). I also do not own the song or the band this is based off, Unwell by Matchbox 20 which can be found here: watch?v=StFfXP4eAgU

**Phil's P.O.V.**

"Why can't I just leave already?" I asked staring up at the ceiling.

"It is mandatory that you attend these sessions." Doctor Marshall said calmly.

I exhaled deeply and turned over on the couch so I was facing the wall. I didn't understand why I was here. I was being held at this mental institution and I had to go to therapy once everyday to try to find out what was wrong with me, but there is nothing wrong with me. I am fine. Perfectly sane.

"So how are you feeling today?"

"I'm doing just fine aside from not knowing why the hell I'm here."

"So you don't know why you're here?" Doctor Marshall asked

I rolled back over so I was looking up at the wall. "No," I said simply.

"Hmm well do you remember when you arrived?"

"Of course I do!"

"Are you telling me the truth?" he asked lifting an eyebrow.

He said it as more of a statement than a question. In all honesty I had no idea why I was here or when I arrived or for how long I had been here. How many sessions did this make? Three? And he's already prodding my brain, trying to tell me he knows me better than I know myself.

"Yes." I replied blandly.

"Could you please tell me how many days you've been in this institution then?"

I was growing sick of these dumb questions and frustrated from being caught in my lie.

"Why do any of these things matter anyways? I just want to leave!" I exclaimed throwing my hands in the arm and slamming them back down on either side of me.

"Relax, I'm sorry. I can't imagine what it must be like."

No. He can't imagine. He can't imagine the constant frustration that comes with not being able to recollect what you were doing five minutes ago. He can't imagine the looks I get from people when I tell them I can't remember what I had said and that I had a terrible memory. He can't imagine the bullying that came with the bad memory. The harassment.

"This may be a little hard to take in, but you suffer from DID" blurted the doctor.

"I suffer from what?"

"DID it stands for Dissociative Identity Disorder"

"Hmm?"

"More commonly known as Multiple Personality Disorder, have you heard of it?"

"Yeah, a few times..."

"Do you understand what this disorder is?"

"Not really."

"Would you like me to explain?" I nodded my head and turned so I was now looking directly at Doctor Marshall as he deeply breathed in and began to explain.

"DID is a dissociative disorder involving a disturbance of identity in which two or more separate and distinct personality states -or identities- control the individual's behavior at different times. When under the control of one identity, the person is usually unable to remember some of the events that occurred while other personalities were in control. This is why you do not remember when you are under the control of Daniel."

"Daniel?" I asked sitting up.

"Yes, when we had our movers go to your apartment and get your things to bring here they found some of your journals-"

"But I don't keep journals." I cut him off confused.

"You don't, but Dan does. Would you like to see them?"

"who the hell is Daniel?!"

"well... daniel is your other personality. or, at least the only one we have been able to recognize so far... Would you care to see the journals now?"

I nodded and reached my hand out as Doctor Marshall placed a black tattered notebook into my hand. I reluctantly opened the notebook to a random page. This notebook was not mine. It did not have my vocabulary, style of writing, or my handwriting. The writing was a lot nicer and more bold.

"This isn't my journal" I stated

"It's your other personality's."

"I don't have a different personality!" Doctor Marshall sighed and then gestured for me to read so I did.

**Dear Journal,**

**I've been a lot more depressed lately. Everything is just so confusing, I'll be doing one thing one minute and a minute later I'll be on the other side of the house and 20 minutes have passed. I haven't told anyone of course. They'll just think I'm crazy, so I keep it to myself. I think I have been keeping too many things to myself. I have begun to talk to myself. **_** I'm talking to myself in public. Dodging glances on the train. And it makes me think there must be something wrong with me. Out of all the hours thinking. Somehow I've lost my mind.**_

**I'm not quite sure how much I can take of this, but I'm about to go hang out with Peej. Maybe hanging out with him will get my mind of things. God I love PJ.**

**Sincerely,**

**Dan**

"...PJ?" I whispered.

"Do you know him?" Doctor Marshall asked

"Yeah, he's one of my best friends. Him and Chris."

"Oh... yes...Chris... " he asked and looked at me with a sympathetic look.

"W-what happened to Chris?" I asked unsure.

Doctor Marshall looked down and then back up at me, "These time problems Daniel has, how he talks about how he'll be doing one thing one minute and then something else another. He'll lose track of large amounts of time. Does this happen to you often?" he asked ignoring my previous question so I decided to as well, but he was right. Time loss seemed to happen to me more frequently than anyone else. Maybe too frequently.

"Yeah...sometimes." I said.

"Hmmm. See what else you have in common with Dan."

**Dear Journal,**

**I met with PJ yesterday and it would have been great if Chris wasn't there. I don't know why and I don't know when, but Chris is going to do something to hurt me or take away PJ from me. I know it. I don't trust him, I can't trust him- He's too much like him. But I tried to have fun anyway, get everything off my mind, but I don't think it's working. I spent the night at PJ's. He said that... **_**I've been talking in my sleep. Pretty soon they'll come to get me. Yeah, they're taking me away...**_

**Sincerely,**

**Dan**

"Why doesn't Dan like Chris?" I asked looking Doctor Marshall in the eye.

"That's what we were wondering, but I think we have finally pieced it together, after reading his journals and talking to him."

"Wait. You've seen him."

"Yeah some times Daniel likes to make sudden appearances." he said frowning a little.

"Well, what's his deal?"

"Phil, his deal is just as much your deal. You have just chosen to take the problem and push it away so far from you, you have to actually become someone else to deal with it."

"What?" I asked not following.

"Phil, you were not born with DID. You created it when you were very young. You created Dan."

"How?"

"I don't know if you are ready to know. Telling you would unlock some very dark memories that you have worked so hard to keep locked up, and right now they are only accessible when Dan is around."

"Doctor, please tell me. I'm ready." He looked me in the eye for a little while testing me. When I didn't give up he sighed and folded his hands.

"Phil when you were young, you were physically abused."

"What?"

"By your dad." he said disregarding how confused I was. I was silent for a while so he took it upon himself to continue the conversation. "You were only about 5. The whole thing was so traumatizing for you that you slipped into a state of mind in which it seemed that the abuse was not really occurring to you, but to somebody else- Dan."

"What about Chris?" I asked still worried about my friend.

"For some reason Chris reminded you, or Dan of your father. He became so paranoid and convinced that Chris was going to hurt him and take away PJ, like your dad had to your mother that one day he just snapped..."

"What did he do?"

"You. You...killed Chris."

"What? No I didn't!"

"Phil, in order to recover you must come to terms with this."

"I did not kill my best friend! I don't need to recover from anything! There is absolutely nothing wrong with me!"

"Phil please." I stood up fuming and walked over to one of the office chairs and threw it at the wall. Some of the workers at the mental institution heard and came in. They held my arms and feet together so I was sitting on the couch and couldn't move. This didn't stop me from trying though. I tried jumping in my seat, I threw my head around, screamed at the top of my lungs. I did everything I was still able to do. I continued for a while until I realized they weren't going to let me go. So I just sat there staring at the ground using my hair as a wall separating me and the rest of the world.

"Phil ar-"

I shrieked, I shrieked as I slipped

"Phil-"

"STOP!"

The doctor waited a moment.

"Phil are you ready to continue the session now?" Doctor Marshall asked slowly.

"Stop calling me Phil." I said firmly and plainly.

"What?" he asked confused.

"My name is not Phil." I shot my head up and looked into this man's eyes, not knowing how I had gotten there or how long we had been talking.

"It's Dan."

"Dan you need help. Let me help you-"

I smirked and then shook my head, "No."

"What do you mean, No?" he asked. I could tell me not cooperating was angering him. So I smiled even bigger, _"But I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell_

_I know right now you can't tell_

_But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see_

_A different side of me..."_

**Continuing Author's Note: **This is probably the longest one I have made yet. This was 3 pages long and usually my stuff is 1 page and maybe a half. I'm quite proud. There isn't any real shipping in this, but there is a little kickthefire action so.

I also don't listen to Matchbox 20 often, but my older sister does and I thought it would be cool to make a fanfiction after that song. So yeah. I really like this one actually :3


End file.
